


Ultraviolet

by SageMcMae



Series: Sage's Oneshots [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Jedi Rey, Starcrossed Lovers, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Force Bond is Still Active, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-08 19:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMcMae/pseuds/SageMcMae
Summary: It was fitting the constellation Rigel and Betelgeuse were stuck within was The Mighty Hunter. Rey hunted for parts, scavenging to survive. Ben hunted for...well people at times, but ultimately purpose. They both were hunting for a reason, trying to understand why they were still bound to one another.The Force bond should have died with Snoke, yet it remained, steadfast and true, a link neither could sever. Like the Stars, they were bound together and doomed to be apart.Rey and Kylo's force bond reactivates while the Resistance is in hiding. Still on opposite sides of the war, the two must come to terms with what they are to one another and how to move forward.





	Ultraviolet

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta @popsiclewizard for all her help with this chapter.
> 
> I'm very happy with how this turned out. Hope you enjoy!

 

Rey is alone again. It isn’t a choice the Resistance has made for her. No, the solitude is self-made. It is as much for their protection as it is for hers. 

 

She had thought the bond was dead, like the creature who had created it. Snoke is surely gone. His inky blackness is gone from the Force, disappeared as surely as the oddly shaped body of his. She shivers, even now, recalling how cold his presence had been, how icy his paw of a hand had felt on her cheek and how her insides had instantly felt as though she was floating in space. It was not a sensation she was likely to forget. 

 

The last Jedi paces her room onboard the Falcon. It is here where she hides from the growing Resistance, away from the daily reminder she has all but betrayed her best friends for a man who clearly did not wish to be saved.

 

Her teacher is gone, faded into the Force until he became one with it. Before he had gone — before she left him on Ahch-To — he had told her, “This is not going to go the way you think.” It had been the last warning he had given her, a warning unheeded. She had recklessly gone after Ben, thinking she could turn him, believing this was the will of the Force. It had to be. 

 

And now she was alone.

 

_You’re not alone._

 

She shakes her head, trying to remove the memory from her brain. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her, the validation she had sought for after so many years of being alone.

 

Ironically, she now found herself surrounded with roughly thirty loyal rebels, yet felt no connection to any of them, including Poe, Finn’s friend who seemed to be loved by everyone.

 

He had been nice to her, filled with hope she could be a catalyst for change. It had been during one of their planning sessions when she had realized how she had made a grave error. 

 

They had been swarmed around a large circular holo, courtesy of their allies on Mon Cala, when she and heard the familiar ringing in her ears. Then all was silent. 

 

Rey’s breath had caught in her throat as she saw him seated across the room from her. In retrospect, he had appeared as shocked to see her as she was him. 

 

Neither one of them spoke. He regarded her, his face masked in the same cold hardness his former master had possessed. No longer using his helmet, he was still intimidating, still every ounce the imposing terror he had been when he had kidnaped her on Takodana. And it was in that moment she realized nothing had changed.

 

They were still on opposite sides, still hidden from one another with a galaxy between them.

 

When the Force bond closed a moment later, she sighed with relief. She excused herself from the meetings after that, unwilling to take the chance he could see or hear what was transpiring around her. 

 

A month has passed since then.

 

She finds herself tinkering with Chewie’s bowcaster, adding a locator beacon on the underbelly so the Resistance could find him in battle. All the new recruits were getting the same treatment, usually sewn into their jumpsuits. It made extraction simple, if the battle became inoperable. 

 

She finishes soldering the piece onto the weapon, before holding it out in front of her to inspect her craftsmanship. It is then that Chewie walks by her room, pausing in the doorway. 

 

He gives her a look, the same look he has been giving her since they landed on Endor. Despite her love of green, Rey has rarely left the security of the Falcon. Today Chewie’s expression speaks for him. He regards her with tough love, caring about her well-being, while also matching her stubbornness. His fur-covered face is calm, but his eyes are determined. He wants her to leave her room. 

 

With a guttural growl, he barks at her. _You need to get ready,_ _jow kkata_. Roughly translated, it meant sun child. It was the phrase he had taken to calling her. 

 

“I’m not going.”

 

Another growl, this one lower. _Yes, you are._

 

And like a petulant child, she all but throws the bowcaster at him. She is done having this argument with him. She has no place there. She doesn’t want to be in front of the entire Resistance. She doesn’t want to say goodbye.

 

_We are leaving. You have five standard minutes._

 

With that, her door hisses shut. As she gets changed, she realizes in a roundabout way, Chewbacca has become a father to her, more nurturing and, at times, stricter than anyone else she has ever come across. Peeling off her grease covered tunic, she slips into a dress. 

 

It’s an impractical thing, dark gray and floor length. She’s never owned a dress before, never had a use for one. It is a shame the first time, and probably last, she’ll ever wear one is to a funeral. As soon as she thinks this, a tear escapes from her eyes. It dribbles down her cheek, before sliding off her chin and onto the floor with the smallest of patterns. 

 

Rey swallows the growing lump in her throat, keeping the rest at bay. She can’t afford to break down now. No, she’ll do that later, once she is alone again.

 

Stepping into the gown, she pushes her arms through the long sleeves. Rey reaches back behind her to secure it closed before reaching for the matching veiled cloak. It hangs down from her head, covering the top half of her face and falling along her back to rest a few inches above the rest of the gown on the floor. The final step is the shoes. 

 

Her leather boots have been her constant companions these past months, but now she has to remove them in favor of the heeled black sandals that had been delivered with the gown. She doesn’t understand why. The gown is so long, if she had worn her boots, no one would be the wiser. This isn’t about her, though, this is about the General.

 

Leia.

 

Another tear slips free. It takes everything she had to bury her pain deep, keeping it down before it threatens to unhinge her. Thankfully, it is then that Chewie returns, howling through the door to check if she is ready. 

 

* * *

 

The funeral is a somber affair. Tears are shed. Weeping can be heard all around. One blonde girl, a lieutenant, if Rey isn’t mistaken, can barely breathe she’s crying so hard. She has her hair done up in an elaborate bun like the General. Eventually Poe comforts her and she buried her face in his chest while she sobs. 

 

Despite her earlier trouble, Rey find herself unable to cry. No tears rim her eyes and her throat doesn’t feel tight. For the first time all day, she feels at peace. The same cannot be said for the Wookie next to her, who is openly wailing up into the sky. 

 

In a rare act of compassion, she reaches over and squeezes his paw. He nearly squashes her in his overbearing hug, unintentionally lifting her off the ground. She can feel his pain through the Force, razor sharp and stabbing her through. He hasn’t only lost Leia, he’s lost his whole family. Ben turned to the Dark side, Han died at Ben’s hand, then Luke, and now Leia. All of those he cared about are gone. 

 

And what’s left?

 

Nothing.

 

It’s all been destroyed. The Skywalker dynasty has come to an end. It has crumbled around him, after Ben destroyed Luke’s temple all those years ago.

 

Even though Chewie is still clinging to her and, though she can hardly breathe, Rey remembers what he had shown her about that fateful night. No matter what he’s done, she can’t blame him for burning down the Jedi temple. She can’t blame him for running away. She can’t blame him for protecting himself. He was only a child. 

 

He is still a child. As she thinks about how he has lashed out, how his emotions have driven him to act on numerous occasions, she realizes he never grew up. He is still the scared boy she saw in the vision, still fearful and lonely. 

 

_You’re so lonely...so afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep..._

 

It’s horrible she would think of him now, at his mother’s funeral, but she hears his voice. She recalls the interrogation and how he had spoken to her, so soft and intrigued; not at all the monster she had believed him to be. 

 

Hearing the words again, she wonders if he had actually been referring to her or if he had been acknowledging it about himself. She can’t tell. They are more alike than she cares to admit. Both craving love and affection, both searching for it in all the wrong places, and both left hollowed in the absence of it. 

 

Had that been why the Force chose them? Was it the reason why they were so powerful? The original Jedi code had forbidden attachments. Was it why the Force came to them so strongly? Because they had no one? 

 

The funeral concludes and Chewbacca releases his hold on her to move the casket. He leaves Rey standing off to the side by herself, which is how Finn finds her, and Rose who is faithfully tagging along side of him. Rey notes their clasped hands.

 

At least one couple has a happy ending.

 

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

 

Rey tries not to let Finn’s tone upset her. She hasn’t been a good friend. She knows this. Still, she wants things to be the same. She wishes things could be the same. 

 

“Leia was good to me.”

 

It isn’t untrue. Despite only knowing Rey for a short time, the General has always been kind to her. She had asked for help, once she knew of Rey’s powers, but that was to be expected. She saw the Force as a way to win the war against the First Order. Like Poe, she wanted to use it to change the tide.

 

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Rose says, by way of keeping the conversation going. 

 

“She would have wanted us to keep fighting,” Finn tells them, though he’s only looking at Rose when he says it. 

 

Rey feels like a third wheel. It isn’t anything new. When she rescued the Resistance on Crait, Finn had been focused on Rose. His focus hasn’t wavered since she woke up. After healing from her injuries, she was the only thing Finn saw for days. Rey may not be behaving like a good friend, but she wasn’t the only one. 

 

“I love your dress.” Rose startles her with a compliment. “Did the General give it you?”

 

It’s hard to hate the girl. She is always bubbly, always hopeful — the way Rey used to be. 

 

“Yes,” Rey replies, blushing beneath the veil. “She did.”

 

“It suits you.”

 

Rey isn’t sure what is meant by Rose’s statement. On one hand, it sounds like a compliment, but on the other she feels slightly defensive. She barely knows Rose. How could the girl know what she’s like? What suits her?

 

“Thank you.”

 

It’s all she can think to say, before she’s walking past them, back to the Falcon, back where things make sense and she doesn’t have to put on this facade. Finn and Rose don’t try to stop her. Finn has given up over the past weeks, not that he tried very hard to begin with. 

 

She ignores the looks and hushed conversations that take place as she passes through. There has been speculation over her loyalty to the cause, considering how she brought Skywalker back and how withdrawn she had been since Crait. 

 

Rey doesn’t care. She allows them to gossip behind her back. Let them think what they want. They can never understand what she’s been through, what she’s already sacrificed for their cause. 

 

If Poe had never come to Jakku, she’d still be there, struggling but free. She wouldn’t have lost so many friends. She wouldn’t have been made to serve as the Resistance’s weapon. She wouldn’t have had to share her mind with another. She would have gone on surviving, alone, but as her own person without commitments.

 

She had never asked for this — had never wanted it. 

 

* * *

 

Her room is so empty, so sad looking when she returns. With a sigh, she changes back into her well-worn tunic and pants, minding the grease stains. She makes an effort to carefully hang her gown and veiled cloak. Chewbacca hasn’t come back yet, probably still commiserating with the others. Rey takes advantage of the quiet. She climbs up to a hatch in the ceiling, hoisting herself up to the roof of the legendary smuggling ship, away from it all.

 

The ship was seated away from the main group. Chewie prefers to keep it away from the Resistance members, having served for years with only Han for company. Rey is thankful for his choice. It allows her time away from the post-funeral activities.

 

Rey reclines onto her back, gazing up at the sky as it darkens into night. She watches as each star becomes brighter against the blackening horizon. She has nowhere to be or anyone to meet, so she patiently watches dusk turn to evening. 

 

The nighttime washes over her, hiding her away and she feels peaceful once more. Closing her eyes, she allows herself to drift.

 

* * *

 

When she wakes, it’s still dark. The only reason she can see anything is because the moons are out. All nine shine brightly, brighter than any star above her. At first she simply stares at them. Then she feels it, the presence of someone else.

 

Turning on her side, her eyes lock on a familiar face. His dark eyes are on her and she assumes they have been for as long as the bond has connected them this time. The second her brain catches up with her, she is opening her mouth, just as he cautions her.

 

“Don’t-.”

 

Rey screams.

 

A hand clamps down over her mouth, as he shifts closer to her. Before he can say anything, she hears the rustling of someone coming up through the hatch. By the time, Chewie emerges, the connection is broken. 

 

_What is it sun child? Are you hurt?_

 

Rey sits upright, glancing around frantically but there is no trace of him. He is gone as effortlessly as he appeared. 

 

Chewbacca takes a seat beside her, putting an arm around her. He blames her shout on nightmares. It’s the normal reason for her outbursts. The events of the throne room still plague her. Her co-pilot tells her a tale of his kind, a story passed down through the generations about the stars.

 

It is a tale about the brightest stars in the galaxy — Rigel and Betelgeuse. Rigel is the smaller of the two and has a blue tint to her pure white light. She is the rarest of the star types, a blue-white supergiant, located at the lower right portion of Orion. Betelgeuse is a red supergiant, glaring across the nighttime sky, as he burns with fury. At the top of the left-hand side of the constellation, he is the oldest star in the constellation. He is dying, slowly decaying away, while Rigel illuminates the sky, getting brighter with each passing year, just about to reach her prime.

 

The Wookies call them the star-crossed lovers. The two are equally matched but doomed to live separate from one another, stuck in a constellation where they are caught at opposite sides. Rey can’t help but see the parallels in his story, briefly wondering if he had made this up. 

 

 _Nothing goes to plan,_ he tells her, as he rises to leave. _It’s all a game of chance._

 

She knows he isn’t talking about the stars anymore. This time his message is loud and clear. He goes down to bed, but Rey remains a bit longer, contemplating the two stars. 

 

It was fitting the constellation Rigel and Betelgeuse were stuck within was The Mighty Hunter. Rey hunted for parts, scavenging to survive. Ben hunted for...well people at times, but ultimately purpose. They both were hunting for a reason, trying to understand why they were still bound to one another. 

 

The Force bond should have died with Snoke, yet it remained, steadfast and true, a link neither could sever. Like the Stars, they were bound together and doomed to be apart. 

 

Suddenly, she can’t bare to look upon the sky anymore. She returns below to her room, searching through her drawers until she find the bundle of cloth wrapped around her broken lightsaber. 

 

Rey hasn’t looked upon it since Leia’s passing. Each time she has attempted to fix it, she has failed. Despite that, she hasn’t given up. She may not be a Jedi. She may not be a Skywalker, but she is still her and she knows how to fix things. She will figure this out.

 

She takes the pieces away from the Falcon, deeper and deeper into the forest, away from the Ewok village and the abandoned Imperial base. She has her trusty staff strapped her to her back in case of any unwanted attention from either the locals or the wildlife. She ventures as far away as she can, before her legs begin to tire. She locates a clearing, where she lays her staff down, before kneeling to the ground. Placing the pieces before her on the cloth, she inspects the break.

 

The kyber crystal is shattered. She doesn’t know where to obtain a new one. Luke had never finished her training and the books she stole were difficult to translate. The one thing she does know how to do is meditate, so that’s how she focuses her racing mind, reaching out to the Force. She hopes the energy will grant her the answer she seeks.

 

It answers her, but not in the way she imagines.

 

Around her, the forest quiets, her ears ring, and the. There is a split-second where it is as if time has stopped. When it starts again, Ben Solo — no, Supreme Leader Ren — is standing before her.

 

He peers down at her, as if unsure he should speak after her reaction from their last meeting. Rey contemplated ignoring him outright, but he breaks the silence when he sees what she’s brought to the clearing.

 

“That belongs to me.”

 

“It did belong to you, but it chose me.”

 

His lips twitch. If she didn’t know any better she would think he nearly smiles. It passes and he changes the direction of their conversation. 

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Where are you?” She asks back. She won’t offer up the information. He should know better than to question her.

 

“Onboard the Supremacy.” He responds without hesitation. He had no reason to worry. She can’t assault the massive vessel alone, so providing her with his location is not a risk. Her providing him with her location, however, is a huge one. 

 

“I’m in my private quarters.” She furrows her brow. So? What does she care if he’s in his room or not? It’s all his now, isn’t it? He’s the ruler of the galaxy just as he wanted. Power is all he’s concerned with. 

 

“No,” he practically hisses. “You know that isn’t true.”

 

“If you cared about anything else you wouldn’t have stayed there!” She snaps, standing up. She will not take this sitting down. 

 

They haven’t spoken about her using his former master’s escape pod, leaving him alone with his precious plan. They’ve never talked about Crait either. In fact, they’ve barely uttered a full sentence in each other’s presence during the last month. 

 

“I couldn’t go with you!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You can’t seriously be that naive!”

 

“Your mother would have protected you. She could have granted you amnesty.”

 

“After I murdered her husband? I think not.”

 

“I would have stood for you!”

 

Both of them still at her declaration. Rey can hear their labored breathing, as they both attempt to reign in their wayward emotions. He runs a hand through his hair, agitation rolling off him. She can’t decide if it’s directed at her or not.

 

“You’re still trying to save me.” He says it so softly she almost doesn’t hear him. “You can’t. Monsters don’t get saved.”

 

Rey steps towards him, her body moving before she is even aware of what she is doing. She reaches up, gently cupping his face with one hand. “You aren’t a monster. Not to me.”

 

_You’re nothing...but not to me._

 

Her admission echoes the one he gave her. It feels the same. She can hear her heartbeat in her chest, her skin is prickly and hot. The only thing she can see is him. Everything else falls away. It’s just them now. 

 

“Rey.” He removes his gloves, dropping them to the floor, so he can hold her face — skin to skin. 

 

She closes her eyes, relishing the closeness, the intimacy she has only ever felt with him. Each time they touch, each time they are together, she feels alive, feels wanted and cherished. It makes no sense. She feels half-crazy, but only for a moment, then she’s leaning into his hold, hoping the bond remains open so he can hold her like this forever. 

 

He tilts her face up so their eyes meet. “Are you safe?” He questions, his eyes full of concern, no longer filled with any trace of frustration.

 

“Yes.”

 

Ben glances behind her to the ruined lightsaber. “We need to fix it. You need to arm yourself.”

 

“We?”

 

“I built my own,” he reminds her, “and you still need a teacher.”

 

She can’t argue. It is true. He beckons her to sit down, as she had been before the bond brought him to her. Ben sits behind her, positioning himself so he can direct her movements. 

 

“Close your eyes and concentrate on the crystal.”

 

“But it’s broken.”

 

“Close your eyes,” he repeats, his tone scolding her.

 

Rey does as he commands, searching through all the signatures in the Force, his being the most prominent, until she finds the crystal. She latches onto it.

 

“Good, now envision it becoming whole.”

 

She huffs, not believing this will work, but does as he has instructed. It takes several attempts. Each time she fails, she feels her agitation boil up. And each time he presses his thumbs into her shoulders, massaging out the tension, until she is ready to begin again. 

 

Finally, after what seems to be the hundredth try, Rey feels something different. The kyber’s signature is changing beneath her outstretched hands. She starts to open her eyes. 

 

“Don’t.”

 

She snaps them shut again, willing herself to remain focused on the process. It’s as if she is welding the lightsaber together herself. She feels heat and smells smoldering metal. She can see in her mind’s eye where the wires reconnect and where the crystal should exist. But as she thinks of the design, an image of her staff comes to mind.

 

The transformation adapts with her thoughts, fluid, like water. Instead of fixing the legacy saber, she crafts a new weapon with two blades, leveraging the kyber crystal to power her staff saber. When it is complete, it comes to rest before her. 

 

“Open your eyes.”

 

Rey does. It is the most beautiful weapon she has ever seen. Gingerly, she places her hands on it, feeling around the centered area where she will grip it for battle. There are two switches, one to ignite each blade of her staff. She flicks them both simultaneously and it roars to life. 

 

The blades are both pure white. The are no longer blue. It’s unusual. She’s never seen a lightsaber with a white blade or heard tale of one. 

 

“Is it still broken?”

 

“No,” Ben responds, still seated behind her. “It’s perfect.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“First comes the day, then comes the night. After the darkness shines through the light. The difference, they say, is only made right by the resolving of gray through refined Jedi sight.” He recites, as if it is a mantra he has practiced for years, and as if this will answer her question.

 

The words are familiar. She has read them before, in one of the books she stole out of the Force tree on Ahch-To. He must have read her thoughts, because he adds, “It’s from the Journal of the Whills.” As soon as he says it, she can see the book in her mind’s eye. She remembers reading it one night in her bunk, not long after Crait.

 

“I told you it was time for old things to die. This is what I meant.”

 

She doesn’t understand. What does the poem have to do with restoring her lightsaber or his rant from the throne room?

 

He hums, the sound vibrating down his broad chest and through her back. “The Sith was wrong. The Jedi were too. Both sides are too extreme, too unbalanced. There needs to a new path, created by those who understand the power of both the Light and the Dark.”

 

“You mean us?”

 

Ben places his chin on the top of her head. “I do.”

 

“I can’t imagine the First Order and the Resistance calling a truce anytime soon,” she scoffs.

 

“This war is a pointless effort. It will change nothing, but we can, Rey. You and I.”

 

She thinks on the words again. _The difference they say, is only made right by resolving of gray through refined Jedi sight._ Gray? A blending of black and white, a melding of both sides of the Force, the balance of the image she had seen on the floor in the temple on Ahch-To. Was it possible? Could one use both sides of the Force without succumbing to either completely? Was that the reason for her blade’s strange color?

 

Rey feels the pulse of the bond, a tell-tale sign it’s about to end the connection. Before she can ask him, Ben presses a chaste kiss to her temple, planting coordinates in her mind.

 

“See you soon, my little Rigel.”

 

Then he is gone. She isn’t worried. She knows where he is going and where she’ll be able to find him. They are Betelgeuse and Rigel, bound together and fated to be apart. It’s a good thing she never believed in fate. She believes in creating her own destiny.

 

She makes her way back to the Falcon, to plot a course, smiling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A major THANK YOU to [@boomdafunk](http://boomdafunk.tumblr.com/) for this gorgeous edit I commissioned for the fic.
> 
> Kudos and comments are my life blood!


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